The Holy Ground

You cannot practise dying, though we want to do it well We don’t want to appear foolish when we might be in hell We can practise smiling and opening the door Unless like me you’re crippled and you’re feeling very low You can practise music, you can practise Art You can practise hiding in the burrows of the heart Then you get to go on stage and do it all for real Dying ain’t for dummies but allow yourself to feel You can practise for your wedding, your baptism and your fall In the hall of mirrors where God lives off the wall You can practise speaking, you can do it many ways Then you must stop practising, and say the words today In the little spaces in between the sounds Let yourself be emptied, you are on the Holy Ground